


Nothing To Confess

by PrinceWinter



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Persona Fusion, Byleth is not a teacher, Female My Unit | Byleth, Modernized Fodlan, Multi, Persona 4 Inspired, Rating May Change, Shadows (Persona Series), mentions of abuse, some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceWinter/pseuds/PrinceWinter
Summary: When Byleth moves to Fodlan in order to attend the esteemed Garreg Mach University, she never expected to be tangled in an otherworldly murder mystery. Something's lurking within the fog, and it's only a matter of time until someone disappears into the murk and never comes back.(Persona 4-inspired AU. No knowledge of P4 necessary.)





	1. i want trees instead of gravestones

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, friends, to my newest project! Judging just by my rough outline, and also the slow pacing of Persona 4 itself, this fic is gonna be a long one. However, I hope you'll be with me in this wild little ride all the way to the end! Beginnings are my weakness with writing, so I'm sorry if I didn't set this up as well as I could have. However, I'm confident that the story can only get better from here.

It was the chill of her surroundings that forced Byleth to open her eyes. She was knelt on a dark cobblestone floor, visibly worn with age. As her eyes focused, she glanced around, seeing she was in a broad, open space, with the walls so distant they were obscured in pure shadow.

A yawn behind her startled her out of her thoughts. She staggered to her feet, whirling around to face the source of the sound. The only light source in the room filtered down onto a grand throne, and draped across it was the small frame of a green-haired girl. She stretched with another yawn, blearily opening her eyes. They widened ever so slightly in surprise when her gaze fell down onto her visitor.

“Oh my,” she spoke in a soft, childish voice, “what could’ve brought you here?”

It took Byleth a few tense moments to realize that she could speak. “...I don’t know. I think… I think this is a dream.”

The girl paused, tilting her head to the side. “ _ Your _ dream? How odd. I certainly don’t feel like a figment of your imagination.” She sat upright. “Dreams… perhaps at times, they’re more than simply your mind at play, hm?”

Byleth swallowed. “...maybe. I’ve heard that some put stock in dreams being something psychic. Like…” She paused to find her words. “Like a way to connect the minds of people. To share thoughts and feelings.”

“Curious. That does feel close to what’s happening here.” She leaned back in her throne, beckoning Byleth with a hand. “Come. If our minds are truly connected, I’d like to know who I’m speaking to. What is your name?”

Byleth stepped forward, dipping her head. “My name is Byleth Eisner. And you?”

She paused for a moment, letting her eyes shut as she thought. “...hmm. I don’t quite recall…” She remained quiet for a few moments, but just as Byleth moved to speak up, she perked up. “Yes… Yes, I remember. My name is Sothis.”

“Sothis…?” Byleth inquired.

The girl stood. “Yes, my name is Sothis. And I’ve also remembered…” A small smile played onto her lips. “...that it’s my job to guide you.”

A flash of light overtook Byleth’s vision before she could respond, and everything disappeared.

* * *

_ “Next stop,”  _ a robotic voice stirred Byleth from her sleep,  _ “Garreg Mach.” _

She sat up, rubbing her eyes as the announcer repeated itself a few times. The details of the dream she’d had were already starting to blur.  _ ‘What an odd dream…’  _ she mused internally. Not sparing any more of her concern for the flights of her unconscious mind, Byleth stood, carefully steadying herself by setting a hand against the handrail. 

There were likely still a few minutes before her stop, but there was no harm in grabbing her luggage from the overhead bin early. After all, she wanted to hurry off of the train, and it’d be deeply unfortunate if she’d left anything behind. Even if her father had already moved in most of her belongings, she still had a bag with her personal possessions--few as they were. Her laptop, phone, and a few odds and ends from her old bedroom were all she was carrying on her person.

The train eventually slowed to a halt, the wheels letting out a low shriek of protest, and another chirp from the robotic announcer confirmed this was her stop. Byleth stood, shifting her backpack from her lap to her shoulders, stretching out her legs before walking off of the train. Only a few other people followed her, but that was hardly surprising.

Garreg Mach was not a school for normal people. The tuition was pure madness, and though there was a wide variety of programs to choose from, the bar of entry for any of them was startlingly high. Byleth had never expected to end up at this school herself, but a generous pile of scholarships piled up before her at the end of her sophomore year. It was an intimidating concept, to pack up and leave her former home in Ylisse to come to Fòodlan, but it was worth it.

Her father, Jeralt, had been apprehensive about the change. Apparently he had lived in Fòodlan himself, even occasionally worked security at Garreg Mach, but shortly before Byleth was born he’d moved away. Ever the private sort, he never divulged why he left to his daughter, but whatever his reasons were, it didn’t stop him from eventually caving and deciding to come back to Fodlan with her. She had been willing to go alone, but he insisted on coming, and she was hardly going to turn down the assistance. 

Even with the generous scholarships, there were still a few bills piled into the Eisners’ laps. Jeralt swore up and down that it was nothing he couldn’t handle, but stubborn as she was, Byleth wasn’t about to leave her father with her own debt. They settled on a compromise; an on-campus job. 

Byleth was Garreg Mach’s newest peer tutor.   
  


* * *

The apartment that Byleth arrived at was at least better than she had expected. On the phone, Jeralt had been apologizing, saying it wasn’t the nicest place, but it seemed fine on the outside. The building was dull and lacked much in terms of character or charm, but that worked just fine for her. She didn’t need much to feel comfortable in a space.

Pushing her key into the lock and turning it, the door creaked open. She gently pushed it aside, stepping into the apartment. The inside was just as expected, based on the outside. It was bleak, not very homey, but clean and well put-together. This was just fine. She stepped into a living room, and spotted doors to two separate bedrooms, and a kitchen tucked itself into the corner of the main living space.

Byleth opened her mouth to call out, but before she could speak, one of the bedroom doors opened. Jeralt stepped into the living room, a soft smile pulling onto his worn features as he headed towards his daughter.

“You made it,” he commented. “How was the trip? Everything go alright?”

Byleth nodded, setting down her backpack on the living room table. “My plane was waiting for an open gate for a while. Sorry, I didn’t text--service was bad.”

He gave a low chuckle. “Fair enough. I trust you on your own, anyways. Everything smooth from there?”

Byleth nodded. “Slept on the train, so that made it go faster.”  _ ‘Even if I had that weird, oddly philosophical dream…’ _

“That’s the way, isn’t it?” Jeralt dropped himself into a chair near the table. Despite him having moved in merely last week, and the furniture being new, the chair already looked sad and worn. 

_ ‘What is it with dads and over-using their living room chairs?’ _ Byleth sighed quietly. “Is everything unpacked, or do you still need a hand?”

“Believe it or not, I actually managed to unpack mostly everything. Don’t know how I did it, but I did.” He shrugged. “I left some stuff out in your room. Figured you’d want to do that part yourself.”

She gave a short nod. “Well, I’ll get to it, then.”

A look of what almost seemed like disappointment crossed Jeralt’s face, but he didn’t protest.  _ ‘Did he want me to talk to him more? It’s not like I have much to say…’ _ She shrugged it off, heading into her room.

True to his words, all of her stuff was in there (which wasn’t much), and partially unpacked. Classes started in two days, and so it was for the best to get everything sorted before then. She knelt down next to an open box and got to work.

* * *

Much to Byleth’s surprise, her tutoring services were quickly grabbed up. A week after her first class, she already had a student. This early into the fall semester, she could only wonder how they were needing help already, but she wasn’t going to judge. After all, getting help was the responsible decision, and she wasn’t going to complain about having work to do.

She sat in a somewhat quiet corner of the library, pulling out her laptop. She didn’t quite know who her student was, but apparently they needed help with math. It wasn’t her favorite subject, but she was skilled at it, enough so to comfortably teach someone else. She sipped from her coffee cup, not even wincing as it burned against her tongue. She was used to the feeling by now.

“Hey!” A voice called out to her, amiable in tone. She peered up, eyes landing on a tall young man hurrying towards her table. He wore a faded t-shirt from a band he  _ probably  _ didn’t listen to, and had messy, vibrant red hair. He slid up to the opposite chair, plopping himself into it. “Byleth, right?”

She blinked slowly. “Yes… wait, how did you know my name?”

“To be honest, the first few people I said that to weren’t you.” He offered a lopsided grin. “I’m Sylvain! Your student. I’m here for a little help with my math, yeah?” With a wink, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Pretty boys like me aren’t good at all that thinking, you know~!”

Byleth resisted the urge to down the rest of her coffee, knowing that she was going to need it. “...well, that’s what I’m here for. Any specific subjects you’re struggling with?”

“Math.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly. “What part of math?”

“Uh…” He looked around. “Er… Caaaaaaalculus. Calculus. I’m really struggling in… uh… calculus!”

“...” She couldn’t really figure out what was going on anymore. “Alright, well… in that case…” She looked up a few calculus problems of varying difficulty, copying them all into a plain text document and turning her laptop around to him. “You have a notebook with you, right? Solve these to the best of your ability. I’d like to know what you can do, so I know what I can help you with.”

He blinked at the problems as if he’d somehow not expected that he would be asked to do any work. With a shrug, he pulled out his notebook and started on the problems. Byleth raised an eyebrow at how naturally he glided his pencil across the page.  _ ‘He seems confident with his answers for someone who supposedly needs help…’ _

Oh well. His process wasn’t her business. As he worked, her gaze traveled across the library. Something in the corner of her vision caught her attention. ‘ _ A TV? Why would they have a TV in the library? Don’t people study here?’ _ She squinted at the flashing screen.  _ ‘Garreg Mach is such an odd school.’ _

It appeared to be tuned to a news channel. She couldn’t quite hear the audio or see any subtitles, but the face on-screen caught her eye. Whatever they were reporting on, the cameraman was interviewing an uncomfortable-looking girl with long, white hair. She looked like she was digging for excuses to get away before she simply turned heel and hurried off.

_ ‘That’s a bit embarrassing… running off like that on TV,’  _ Byleth mused.

Her attention snapped back to her student. “Ta-da! I’m finished,  _ professor~!”  _ He pushed a piece of paper towards her. “So, pretty bad, huh? I reeaaally need the help.”

Byleth took the piece of paper, one edge rough from being torn from a notebook, and scanned the answers. What she saw puzzled her, and she found herself squinting at the odd responses. 

His process was completely correct. Every step he took for solving the problems was as it should be, and almost all the numbers were right. In fact, only the final answers seemed to be flawed. They were too random, completely nonsensical for someone who understood the process so well otherwise to ever come to.

Byleth was confused until Sylvain opened his mouth again. “I must say, miss, you’re looking  _ lovely  _ today--”

“You don’t need my help at all, do you?” Byleth set the paper down, shooting him a glare as he winced. “You… did you hire me just to hit on me?”

Sylvain stammered for a moment. “Well, I--”

“That sounds like him, yeah.” A new voice cut him off. A woman with short blond hair walked up to the table they were sitting at, gently smacking Sylvain in the back of the head. 

“Awww, Ingrid, c’mon--” Sylvain whined, “Back me up here! I definitely totally need a lot of help in math, specifically help from a pretty young lady!”

The woman- Ingrid -rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He’s the world’s most brilliant idiot. He gets all straight A’s then turns around and pulls stunts like this.” She pulled her backpack off of her shoulders, hanging it on a third chair at the table. “I told him to do his damn  _ homework _ more often, and his plan is, of course, to fit flirting into the schedule.”

“This is so harsh…” Sylvain slumped on the table. “Exposed… by my own best friend…”

Byleth just sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “...it’s whatever. He was already charged for the lesson, anyways.”

“Wait, wha--”

Ingrid seemed to get a bit of amusement out of that. “Good. Maybe he’ll learn his lesson, now. Sorry for wasting your time, you can go if you have somewhere to be.”

“...well.” Byleth paused. She didn’t actually have anywhere to be, and walking back to her apartment seemed like it’d effort. “I might as well get some homework done, while I’m here. You may need the help forcing him to do his.”

Sylvain’s jaw dropped. “Oh  _ hell, _ I’m getting teamed up on. This is brutal!  _ Ingriiiid! _ ”

“Nope, she’s right. We have the same chemistry class--so I  _ know  _ you have homework there.” Ingrid, with a satisfied smirk, pulled out a textbook. “And you can’t say you forgot it, because I have the materials right here.”

“This is hell. I’m in hell now.” He groaned, leaning on the table and propping his head up in his hand. “Fine, fine. What do we have to do? Might as well get it over with as quickly as possible…”

Ingrid and Sylvain got to work on their assignments, and Byleth buried herself in her own. She wasn’t used to working around people, but while their chatter was a bit distracting, she didn’t find it entirely unpleasant. Whenever her attention phased back in to their banter, she always caught something interesting, yet completely out of context. It was amusing.

It was a while before she was addressed directly, however. Sylvain’s voice caught her attention. “Byleth, have you heard about it?”

She looked up from her laptop, tilting her head to the side. “...heard about what?”

Ingrid shrugged. “He’s going on about this rumor he heard.”

“Hey, hey, I’ll have you know,” Sylvain protested, “that I got my information from a  _ very  _ reliable source.  _ Ashe  _ said he saw it! Ashe! Are you calling that pure, sweet boy a liar?”

That gave Ingrid a pause. “...well, Ashe isn’t really the type to just make things up…”

Byleth frowned. “Can one of you fill me in on what this ‘rumor’ is?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Sylvain grinned lazily, an expression he seemingly wore often. “So… have you ever heard of the  _ Midnight Channel?” _

“Sounds like a porn channel,” she replied bluntly.

Ingrid rolled her eyes. “For once, coming from Sylvain, it’s not something  _ that  _ perverted.”

He snickered. “But it  _ does  _ kinda sound like… eh, whatever.” He waved a hand to dismiss the prior subject. “Anyways, it’s this little urban legend on campus, apparently it started years ago, but some people have been actually seeing it again. They say when you look into a turned-off TV, at midnight, while it’s raining…” He paused for dramatic effect. “You’ll see your  _ soooooulmaaaate~!” _

“...” Byleth wasn’t particularly impressed. “...that sounds like something a bunch of thirteen-year-olds would make up.”

Sylvain’s enthusiasm deflated like a wet balloon. “...that’s really unfun of you. Aren’t you at least a little curious? People have been seriously talking like they’ve seen it!”

“Well, if I’m awake, and it’s raining…” She shrugged. “I guess I’ll find out.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Ingrid shook her head. “Don’t be surprised when nothing happens, though. Sure, people have been claiming to see it, but it could’ve easily been a dream, especially if they were trying to stay up, then fell asleep thinking about it.

“Alright, then here’s the deal. If it comes on, and I see it, I’ll call you guys.” Sylvain pulled out his phone. “That way, you can verify that I was awake for it since I can hardly call you in my sleep. Hey, Byleth, what’s your number?”

Ingrid sighed, and obviously, Byleth knew what he was getting at. However, she decided she didn’t actually care much. She took his phone (prompting a yelp of surprise from him) and plugged her phone number into it. 

“If I find inappropriate pictures from you, I’ll turn you inside out,” Byleth threatened, voice completely deadpan.

Sylvain chuckled nervously. “Ahah, uh… nothing to worry about there! No, seriously, I wouldn’t…”

“You’ll get everything  _ but  _ nudes from him, though.” Ingrid closed her textbook. “My next class is in twenty minutes, so I should start heading there.” She gave Byleth a polite smile. “It was nice to meet you, though. Hopefully we’ll see each other around.”

Byleth nodded. “Maybe.” She seemed to be far more studious than her bumbling companion, at least.

Sylvain looked at his phone. “My next class is… oh, shit.” He sprang to his feet, clumsily gathering his things. “Ten minutes ago!”

“ _ Sylvain _ .” Ingrid had a small amount of murder in her eyes.

“Seeyoulaterbyeeeee!” With that clumsy exit, he hurried off, dropping supplies behind him as he ran.

Ingrid sighed, walking after him at a far more reasonable pace, picking up the mess he left behind. Byleth felt a tiny stir of amusement in her chest, though it flickered out quickly, and she was left only with her work in front of her.

But now she couldn’t focus.

_ ‘...the Midnight Channel, huh?’ _


	2. under the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait on this chapter! I just... I couldn't get a result I was happy with here. This chapter is not my finest work, I know, but sometimes getting out a chapter at all is better than nothing. I hope you all enjoy!

“Guide me?” Byleth’s voice echoed off of the stone floors. “Why?”

Sothis stood, placing her cheek into a propped-up hand as she thought. “...hm. How odd. I’m not sure if I can recall. I know with such deep certainty what my purpose is, yet I cannot remember what I am meant to guide you towards, or what we are supposed to do...”

Byleth eyed the young girl. “How do you expect to ‘guide’ me then?”

Her expression soured into a frown. “How rude! Surely I will be able to recall soon enough--and when I do, I will visit you again.” She sat back down onto her magnificent throne. “For now, however, you will continue about your days as normal. I am quite sure things will become clear in time.”

Before she could respond, Byleth woke up.

  
  


Byleth was never the type to be late. In fact, she preferred to be early when she could get away with it. This lead to her often finding herself sitting outside of classroom doors, scrolling idly through her phone as she waited to be allowed into her next class. 

Sometimes, she would people-watch, but it was unfortunately not a suitable distraction. After all, she often had a hard time with people, understanding and relating to them, and so the things others did was just often puzzling instead of entertaining. Even still, if someone were to do something to grab her attention, she would inevitably find her gaze drawn to them. After all, it was hard to ignore something that was blatantly in front of you.

Today, her attention was pulled away from dull social media feeds to settle on two young women by the door to the stairwell. They were standing beside one another on their phones, and to most bystanders, it would seem completely normal. In fact, it took Byleth a few moments to realize what had grabbed her attention.

They weren’t simply standing next to each other, they were  _ talking  _ to one another. No,  _ whispering  _ would be the more accurate term. Despite looking like they were acting completely independent of one another, Byleth could hear the low vibrations of their hushed voices, and the movement of their lips.

The women themselves were somewhat eye-catching, at that. One was petite, with a youthful face despite clearly being of a similar age to Byleth. The other was taller, built somewhat athletic, with stern yet feminine features. However, both of them had long, snow-white hair and light eyes. She could wonder if they were sisters, but despite their similar pigmentation, their faces were quite different.

Byleth hadn’t concerned herself with subtlety, so she wasn’t surprised when the taller of the two women noticed her. Her light eyes widened ever-so-slightly, and she quickly hissed something to her companion before hurrying off. The smaller girl seemed startled by the sudden departure, and for a moment, almost a bit offended.

Then, her eyes find Byleth, and shock paints her features. She quickly flees, leaving Byleth alone to wonder what the white-haired girls had to be so secretive about.

Maybe they were girlfriends.

(Byleth has been listening to Sylvain too much.)

  
  


A light drizzle had started by the time Byleth returned home, but that didn’t stop Ingrid from coming over to study anyways. She hardly needed the help, but she had a naturally studious nature and was eager to jump on having a tutor for a friend.

(‘Friend’. Byleth never had many friends. Did this count?)

Ingrid pulled a few textbooks out of her bag, setting them on the floor around her, where she sat cross-legged. Byleth sat across from her with her own supplies, reaching over to turn off the TV behind her. It was an old thing, bought for cheap at a garage sale a few years prior, and Byleth only used it for background noise. Such noise was hardly suitable for a study session, however, so it was going to be off for the night.

“I’ll be honest,” Ingrid sighed, opening a notebook and fidgeting with her pen, “I don’t know why I have to take  _ chemistry _ when I’m an athletic training major…”

Byleth offered a shrug. “Everything has a chemical process. Muscle growth especially.” A pause. “...also, making you take more classes means the university can charge you more.”

She huffed out a short laugh. “Well, you’re right there. If only they knew to back off. My family might be ‘old nobility’, but we’re hardly wealthy…”

“Old nobility?” Byleth cocked an eyebrow.

Ingrid gave her an odd, puzzled look for just a moment, before a realization seemed to cross her face. “Oh, yes, I’d forgotten… you just moved here from outside of Fodlan, right?”

Byleth nodded. “Yes, from Ylisse. Is there something I’m missing?”

“Nothing too important unless you’re involved in it.” She sighed. “Most other nations have long since moved on from ideas of bloodlines and such, but Fodlan still holds onto those ideas. Families descended from the old noble houses from hundreds of years ago still hold a lot of political sway, even with our democratic government.”

“That’s… odd,” Byleth commented plainly.

Ingrid spared a soft chuckle at that. “You couldn’t be more right, really. It’s archaic, and who’s to say that someone’s bloodline makes them any more equipped to have authority?” She glanced down at her textbook before sighing. “...I’m distracting myself, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” she smiled sheepishly, “I can count on you for honesty. I’ve always prided myself on my academics, but there are simply times when my brain hits a mental block, and I just can’t seem to work through problems like I wish I could…”

Byleth nodded understandingly. “Some challenges are like that. We’ll just need to chip away little by little at that ‘mental block’. Which means…”

“That we have to keep working, even if I don’t like it.” She nodded, still remaining confident. “Well, let’s put our noses to the books, shall we?”

They needed no more convincing to get to work. Despite Ingrid’s initial hesitance, she began to eventually work through the problems that were giving her much trouble. Byleth watched as her furrowed brows slowly unknit themselves until she was visibly more relaxed with the task at hand. Eventually, Byleth didn’t need to give her advice anymore, and the two sat in comfortable silence, with only the sound of the gentle rain on the window.

The progress didn’t come easy, however. By the time Ingrid had the confidence to work the various equations on her own, it was nearly midnight. Byleth wasn’t inexperienced when it came to staying awake late at night, but it was admittedly a struggle to stay awake with such a peaceful scene… and such an uninteresting subject.

“...I see,” Ingrid spoke after a long stretch of silence. “Yes, it’s all making sense now. I’ll definitely need to go over this again, but at least I’ve made this much progress.”

“That’s good to hear,” she replied. “If you need any more help, just send me a text.”

“Of course, but I think I’m--” A sound behind them cut Ingrid’s words.

Byleth turned, startled by the sudden sound. The TV, which had been previously sitting dormant, had suddenly flickered to life. Static filtered through the screen, mostly abstract, though giving mere glimpses of some vaguely humanoid shapes within. 

“...no,” Ingrid breathed, watching with wide eyes. “Is this that… that  _ thing _ Sylvain was…?”

The shapes finally took focus into the form of a petite woman with long hair. She stood, seemingly shifting from foot to foot as if…  _ uncomfortable _ . Her face was impossible to discern, though something about her figure felt familiar to Byleth.

Just as she focused to figure out why the mystery woman felt familiar, the screen went dark. Both Ingrid and Byleth were stunned into complete silence, neither able to find the words to express themselves.

Before either of them could speak, however, Ingrid flinched visibly. Her phone, tucked in her pocket, had started to loudly ring. She fumbled for it, accepting the call and pressing it to her ear. The phone was not on speaker, but despite that, Byleth could hear the familiar voice of Sylvain on the other line with striking clarity.

_ “Ingrid!? Did you see that?! The rumor--the legend--it’s all true!” _


	3. march along the railroad tracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: doesnt update for 2 months  
also me: updates 2 days in a row
> 
> but yeah, FINALLY a chapter im proud of, especially the last bit. hope you all enjoy! chapter updates should be more regular now. hopefully no more waiting 2 months, but im a college student so i make no promises,

“Haven’t you remembered anything yet?” Byleth grumbled, finding just the faintest prickle of irritation in her chest.

Sothis shot her a glare. “You are behaving like a child. If I had remembered anything more, I would have  _ told you _ by now.” She sighed. “Though… I understand your frustration, even still. I too wish I could recall more than the simple, unhelpful fragments I have…”

Byleth looked away. “...right. Sorry.”

The ghostly girl’s lips turned up into a smile. “An apology? I dare say we may get along yet.” She paused, closing her eyes in thought. “Of course, we are still left with a great many mysteries… I wish I had the information needed to guide you, but… ah!”

Byleth’s eyes darted up to where the girl sat on her ancient throne. “Did you remember something?”

She shook her head. “Do not get your hopes up, it is but a small fragment… but I do feel a stirring. That screen… the sight of it feels so familiar. I wonder what’s inside?”

“Wires and machinery. There really isn’t anything  _ inside  _ a television.” Byleth wasn’t about to completely write off Sothis’ claims, but she was at least going to remain a skeptic for now.

Sothis shook her head. “Well, there’s nothing inside with  _ that  _ attitude, you know. Perhaps it’s time you’ve been a little more adventurous, yes?”

  
  
  
  


“I  _ saw _ it!” Sylvain exclaimed, pieces of his sandwich falling messily from his lips as he spoke. “This cute, petite girl--c’mon, be honest, you think she’s my  _ soulmate?” _

Ingrid made an  _ ‘ugh’  _ sound. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,  _ please.  _ I know you’re capable of better manners than that.” She shook her head. “And no, that wouldn’t make sense, because Byleth and I both saw that same girl too.”

Sylvain blinked, silent for a moment. “We have the s…” His eyes widened. “We have the same soulmate?! Wait, wait, I know I’m a ladies’ man, but am I really going to have  _ three g-- _ ”

Ingrid swatted him with her notebook. “Sylvain! Get your head out of the ‘soulmate’ thing.  _ That  _ part must be made up. You’re my friend, and I care about you deeply, but I am not going to be a part of some kind of harem.”

Byleth looked up from her lunch--a rather disappointing plate of lukewarm pasta--and sighed. “We’re focusing on the wrong things here. I think it’s more important that a television that was turned off just spontaneously came back on.” She leaned on the table, propping up her head with her elbow. “It would be one thing if the TV had been one, then it could have been some kind of signal hijack. However, I don’t think it’s possible to remotely turn on a TV as old as mine…”

Ingrid nodded, collecting herself. “You’re right,  _ that’s  _ the bigger mystery here. How did someone just… send that message out to us?” She paused, sighing. “I wonder if anyone else even saw it. I have to say, it’d be even more uncomfortable if  _ we  _ were somehow the only ones that the TV turned on for…”

Sylvain shrugged off his disappointment at having his discussion of ‘soulmates’ shut down and chimed in. “Well, I didn’t see anything much about it on social media, but since the rumor’s been going around for a little while now, other people  _ have  _ to have seen it, yeah?” He pulled out his phone, scrolling idly. “It’s supposed to rain through the night again. Might be worth keeping an eye out for it again tonight.”

Ingrid nodded. “You’re right. Should we meet up to watch it together?”

Sylvain wiggled his eyebrows. “Like a date?”

“Nevermind.”

“Wait--wait! I was just kidding!” Sylvain protested though he chuckled immediately after. “C’mon, when was the last time I ever genuinely made a move on you?”

Ingrid smiled, despite trying to be annoyed. “Nothing that I recall.”

Byleth tilted her head. “Am I still a target, then?”

“Well, depends,” Sylvain smirked, “you are pretty beautiful, but say the word and I’ll--”

“Don’t flirt with me.”

Sylvain winced. “Ouch. Well, okay. If you say so.” He flashed a grin. “Well, it’s decided. Let’s meet up tonight, and we’ll see if that weird show comes on again. Where should we meet?”

Ingrid paused for a moment. “...the common rooms of my dorm building are  _ always  _ empty, and the one at the end of the hall doesn’t have any internal windows, so nobody just walking by could see in. The TV’s also a little bigger than yours, Byleth.”

She nodded. “That hardly surprises me. I think most TVs are.” She thought about Ingrid’s suggestion for a moment. “...but that should work. It’s probably for the best that we keep things somewhat low profile. I don’t want to be involved in some kind of campus-wide incident…”

“Works for me! I’ll bring popcorn,” Sylvain offered with a wink.

“Sylvain,” Ingrid scolded, “please take this seriously--”

Byleth interjected. “I love popcorn. Bring popcorn.”

  
  
  
  


The evening arrived faster than Byleth had anticipated, though before long she had wrapped up her last class for the day. The brisk fall air left her feeling somewhat chilly as she walked across campus, sending a text to Ingrid to alert her she was on her way. It was already past eight o’clock, why bother heading all the way home just to leave again an hour or so later? It made the most sense to just arrive now. The rain had stopped for just a moment, though the forecast made it quite clear it’d be starting up again soon.

However, just as she hit ‘send’ on the text, she found herself colliding with another person. Papers flew in several directions, fluttering down to the ground in scattered heaps. Luckily, none of them landed in any puddles. Meanwhile, whoever she had crashed into had stumbled, just barely managing to keep her footing.

“Sorry--” Byleth quickly spoke, before freezing. The woman standing before her was familiar. She had distinct white hair and violet eyes, and a thin athletic build. It was the woman she’d seen just the day prior, talking in a hushed voice to her companion.

She had a neutral expression on as she acknowledged Byleth quietly, kneeling to pick up her papers. However, as Byleth knelt as well to aid her, she could feel anxiety coming off of her in waves. Despite her neutral face, something had happened to upset the other woman.

She got the distinct impression it wasn’t her business, but curiosity got the better of her. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she replied simply and politely, “I’m quite alright. I just must have been distracted--and not seeing where I was going.”

“You seem stressed,” Byleth pointed out plainly, which caused the other woman to visibly flinch.

“Ah, well… you know how college life can be. Just worrying about my studies.” She offered a somewhat strained smile. “You must be very sharp, though. I’ve been told I’m quite good at keeping my stress under wraps.”

“Maybe I am.” Byleth gathered together the last of the papers, handing them over before standing.

She took a moment to adjust and organize the papers before putting them away in her bag. “Well, either way, thank you for helping me with the papers.” She turned to leave, before pausing. “...actually, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Byleth paused, a bit surprised. “No, of course not.”

She hesitated for a moment, though her steely expression didn’t betray why. “...there’s a girl. A friend of mine. She’s a bit shorter than me, with long white hair… have you seen her?”

She knew that the woman had to be talking about her companion, whom she was speaking to yesterday. “I haven’t seen her today, no.” Byleth felt sure of her answer. After all, it’d be hard to miss a girl with such a distinct complexion.

A subtle wave of dismay crossed her features as she looked away. “I see. Well, don’t concern yourself with any of that, then. Have a nice evening.” Before Byleth could respond, she quickly excused herself, hurrying off in the opposite direction.

Byleth watched her figure disappear around a corner with curiosity. _ ‘Just who are those white-haired girls…?’ _

  
  
  
  


Sylvain forgot the popcorn, much to Byleth’s disappointment.

It was around eleven at night when he finally arrived, the last to do so. Byleth and Ingrid had been content enough to wait, however, as they simply studied on the common area couches until it was time. As Ingrid has promised, the common room seemed completely ignored and abandoned by the residents of the dorm hall, and the only windows faced outside--which, given that the dorm was on the third floor, wouldn’t really give anyone easy access to see inside the room.

Sylvain let out a deep sigh, dropping himself onto one of the chairs. “Man, sorry it took me so long. There was this girl I’d been seeing  _ awhile  _ ago, and I’d broken things off, but then her new boyfriend found out about me, and--”

“It’s fine,” Byleth cut him off, already predicting a long winding story she didn’t want to hear. “You got here before midnight. That’s what matters.” (Internally, however, she was still hurt about the lack of popcorn.)

With around forty-five minutes to spare until midnight, and with the rain having picked up once again, the three of them waited for the silent TV to flicker to life. To pass the time, they exchanged their own half-baked theories, but none of them felt at all plausible. Sylvain suggested it may be the TVs catching a signal from some kind of ‘after dark’ channel, Ingrid shot him down and suggested it could be a local station from too far away to get a clear picture, but Byleth countered both of their theories by reminding them that the TV had to be turned off for the mysterious images to show. Despite their best efforts of exchanging ideas, everything they thought of felt like it didn’t fit.

Then, at last, the TV flared to life, cutting Sylvain off right as he’d opened his mouth to spit out another theory. This time, however, things were different.

“It’s so much clearer tonight,” Ingrid commented, noting the differences. Instead of a foggy, dull yellow, with only the vaguest of shapes present, it was a crisp and clear image. It took Byleth a few moments to realize what she was looking at.

It appeared to be a movie set, and not a very high-budget one at that. It reminded her of a straight-to-video bootleg horror movie. The room was industrial in appearance, with generous coatings of fake blood splattered across the setpieces.

Before anyone could comment, a voice spoke from seemingly behind the camera. It was soft and youthful sounding, with an air of  _ smugness _ , almost.  _ “Come one, come all… to the fright of your lives! Muahahaha…!” _

Sylvain grimaced. “I feel like I’m watching a Nickelodeon horror movie.”

Ingrid shushed him, and the girl behind the camera stepped forward. He was dressed in the outfit of some kind of serial murderer, with a long white coat stained heavily with fake blood.  _ “Welcome to the slaughterhouse, where our cattle are human lives! Watch as one by one, people are subjected to horrors and torment beyond your wildest nightmares…!” _

Byleth felt a distinct chill up her spine.

_ “Do stay tuned~!” _

She knew that girl’s face. She knew her white hair and slight frame.

The TV turned off, and Ingrid turned to speak to her and Sylvain, but Byleth couldn’t hear it. A soft static had plugged up her ears. She watched the empty screen, unable to look away, or even blink. She felt Ingrid’s gaze on her and saw her mouth something out of the corner of her eye, but Byleth couldn’t fully process it.

_ I am thou, _

Byleth stood suddenly.

_ Thou art I, _

She couldn’t hear Sylvain and Ingrid call out in confusion as she stepped forward.

_ Both sides of time have been revealed to you, _

She reached out a hand towards the TV.

_ Now, what shall you do? _

Her fingertips pressed against the screen, sinking into the cool surface like ripples on a still pond.

  
  
  
  


It was the next morning when she sat beside her father, a bit dazed after sleeping in far later than she was used to. She ate idly from a bowl of cereal, the TV playing a news channel a quiet background murmur.

Then, something caught her attention. The back half of a news report. A familiar pale face and soft features.

_ “The body found tangled in a powerline this morning has been identified as the body of Lysithea von Ordelia.” _

Byleth’s entire body felt as cold as ice.


	4. i will face god and walk backwards into the tv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ALIVE IM ALIVE IM ALIVE HOLY S H I T
> 
> okay, revisiting this fic now, there's some stuff i want to make sure is clear. for starters, when i first planned this fic out, i had only just beaten the blue lions route, and nothing else. for that reason, aside from characters i recruited in that playthrough, this is gonna be pretty bl-centric. i also planned this fic around... well, only half-understanding some of the characters. im gonna try to adjust my writing to better fit the characters as i understand them now, a year after the game's release, but be patient if a few things seem weird. that goes for the lore as well - i actually spoiled myself on lore bits from the other routes while writing the plans so they arent just limited to the little crumbs we get in AM but still, forgive me if the writing reflects a sort of stilted understanding of the lore. i know it better now and will try to adjust, but, yknow. 
> 
> on the persona side of things, anyone who's played p4 knows it takes a damn long time for the game to actually Start. for that reason, ive kinda sped along the process of these characters figuring out the tv-world stuff. otherwise we'd have like five chapters alone dedicated to them being like 'well i dunno DOES the tv have something to do with the murder???' when like. we all know it does. we all know. even if you havent played p4 im pretty sure you know too. my reasoning in-universe is that theyre all college students instead of highschoolers as well as being a fairly smart bunch (sylvain's a brilliant idiot, ingrid's pretty studious and sharp, and byleth is byleth and is an inexplicable genius) so they figure it out a little quicker and save us all the struggle
> 
> now then, the first half of this chapter was written last year, while the rest was written in the present day. i feel like it flows fine, though - just something to keep in mind
> 
> OKAY no more disclaimers!!!! take this chapter!!!!!! take it!!!!!!

Byleth had never seen Sothis so smug before. She wore a self-satisfied smirk from where she stood, clearly rather pleased with herself.

“See? It is just as I said. There  _ was _ something inside of the screen!” She clasped her hands together. “Yes, you see, even if I don’t have clear memories, perhaps it is my gut feeling that is meant to guide us.”

Byleth nodded. “Maybe so. Based on that, what should we expect next?”

Sothis paused, thinking carefully. “...well. I suspect that things are only going to get stranger and stranger from here.”

Byleth briefly wondered how things could get any weirder than TV portals and being haunted by the ghostly form of a young girl.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“So that wasn’t a dream, huh?” Sylvain wondered, holding his head with a hand. “I really did see you just… go right into the TV last night, didn’t I? Man, I knew college would be an interesting experience, but this is a lot more than I expected…”

Ingrid was similarly out of her depth. “I kept turning it over and over in my head all last night, and there really is no logical explanation for it…” She went a bit pale. “Could… could supernatural forces  _ really  _ exist? That’s the only explanation I could think of…”

“Oh, man, ghosts are a new layer of shit I never wanted to deal with in my life.” Sylvain put his head down on the table. “...and of course that girl--Lysithea, right?--turns up  _ dead _ after… ugh.”

Byleth looked between them, offering only an unhelpful shrug. “I don’t really know what happened. I just felt…  _ compelled  _ to touch the screen, and then…”

Ingrid shuddered. “That’s… I don’t want to think about that. That  _ definitely  _ sounds supernatural.”

Sylvain picked himself up and took a deep breath. “Okay, no, okay. We gotta keep moving here, yeah? So… as much as it’s making me feel like I’m stumbling backwards, drunk, after just being spun around, we should just accept that  _ hey, weird ghost stuff is actually real, _ y’know?”

“...you’re right. We could sit here just reeling all day over that revelation, or we can accept it and figure out what to do.” Ingrid sighed. “Which brings us to the next thing; Lysithea.”

“I’ve seen her around campus,” Byleth added. “Only a little, but…”

Sylvain tilted his head to the side. “You have? Man, I must be blind or something. She’s kinda hard to miss, yet I’ve totally never seen her before.”

“Wait, but that news report, I remember it mentioning that despite her being found on campus, she wasn’t a student.” Ingrid frowned, thinking. “The campus is mostly open for anyone to come and walk around, sure, but… no, no, maybe that’s not that odd. Maybe she just liked to take walks here?”

Byleth still felt like something was odd, but like Ingrid, she couldn’t really find a reason why it would be. “You watched the whole report? I’d just woken up, so I feel like I didn’t quite process most of it…”

She nodded. “I did. They disclosed a lot of details to the public, and I would guess it’s because there’s a lot of mystery surrounding the case. They really want anyone with information to come forward…” She paused, before continuing. “She was found tangled in the telephone lines, hanging from them. She may have been there for a few hours, but you know how thick the fog was that morning... Apparently, she didn’t have any injuries or an immediately identifiable cause of death.”

Sylvain grimaced. “No cause of death? Yeah, no, nobody young and healthy just dies for no reason. Especially not coincidentally tangled in the telephone wires.” He peered over his shoulder uneasily at the TV in the lounge, as if suspicious of it. “...which uh, means it’s probably something supernatural.”

Ingrid fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “That’s what I was thinking. Should we report this to the police? If Byleth could show them by touching the TV…”

Byleth tensed. “They’d probably take me in for some kind of examination.”

“I mean, yes, they likely would… is that a problem?” Her eyebrows knitted with soft concern. 

“I would really prefer if that didn’t happen.” Byleth looked down. 

Sylvain shrugged. “Besides. We both touched the TV, and nothing happened. It seems like it’s only you that can do it, so how would the police investigate it?”

Ingrid bit her lip. “...you’re right. Does it… fall to us, then?”

“Well, we should see if the TV has anything to do with it, first. It could’ve been that she died before the TV stuff, and she was just… haunting us, or something?” He offered. “If that’s the case, then it wouldn’t have anything to do with her death, just… y’know, ghosts.”

Byleth added that to her list of ‘things I never thought I would hear’. “Well, what are we waiting for, then.” She stood, facing the TV. “We’ll just talk in circles forever unless I touch it again.”

Ingrid winced, standing up as well. “You’re right, but… be careful.”

Byleth approached the TV cautiously, holding out a hand. Despite everything, she still expected her fingers to brush against the smooth, cool glass. However, instead she felt the odd sensation of dipping her fingers into a waterless liquid. It rippled around her hand, but no moisture clung to her skin. It wasn’t a sensation she had ever felt before, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant either. The air on the other side of the screen felt thick and heavy, as well as somewhat cold.

Quickly, Byleth found herself elbow-deep in the TV. She took a breath in and out, before turning to her wide-eyed companions. “...it doesn’t feel any different than last night.”

“Well, that’s… good?” Ingrid didn’t seem sure. She approached and touched the screen, gasping as her finger also created a ripple. “--! Oh! As long as you’re touching it, it responds to me too!”

“Wait--wait wait wait, let me try!” Sylvain shoved past, also jamming his hand into the screen. Byleth winced for a moment, aware that he would’ve shattered the glass with the rough force if it weren’t for the screen parting beneath his fingers.

“Wait,” Ingid’s voice raised with anxiety, “what are we doing!?” She looked at her companions, wide-eyed. “If we suspect this TV thing has something to do with a murder, then we shouldn’t--” Before she could move to pull her hand out, she let out a surprised yelp and, in a mere blink of an eye, was sucked up into the TV.

“Ingrid!” Sylvain cried out. “Shit, shit shit-- what do we do?”

Byleth pulled back from the TV, feeling a faint knot of anxiety in her gut. “...we have to go in and find her.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


It turns out that falling through a TV felt like being sucked up through a vacuum, except somewhat backwards or upside-down. It was, clearly, a difficult feeling to describe, but one that was very distinct. 

Byleth opened her eyes after the dizzying experience to find fog surrounding her in all directions. It took quite a bit of time for her eyes to adjust to the shroud that had consumed the world around her, but a trickle of relief ran through her when she saw an Ingrid-shaped silhouette a few feet in front of her, leaning on an unknown object for support. Ignoring the dull ache in her body, she pulled herself to her feet, hearing the sound of Sylvain groaning nearby as he did the same.

“Ingrid?” He called out, and sure enough, the shrouded figure perked up in attention. “Are you alright?”

Now that Byleth’s eyes were adjusting to the fog, she took a moment to observe her surroundings. The object Ingrid was leaning on seemed to be a church pew, and following that, the space they were in seemed to be a massive church cathedral, with tall arching ceilings and rows of seating. 

“I landed on it wrong,” Ingrid spoke, and Byleth found her attention back on her companions. Seemingly, Ingrid was explaining why she seemed to be avoiding putting her weight on her leg. “It’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Sylvain replied. “I don’t mind playing the dashing hero and carrying you on my shoulders.” His tone took on a teasing edge.

Ingrid shoved him gently. “Only you would manage to keep up your usual act in a situation like this…”

Byleth, however, was investigating the space behind her, trailing her eyes up the grand centerpiece of the cathedral. It was a statue of a woman with long hair, clutching something shimmering in her hands - seemingly some kind of jewel. More notable than the statue, however, was the fact that there was no sign of whatever doorway or portal they had come through from.

She looked over her shoulder, spotting Ingrid managing to walk on her hurt leg (though not without wincing visibly) while Sylvain seemed torn on whether or not to risk her wrath by helping her. She called to them, catching both of their attention, and gestured to the statue.

Ingrid limped up beside her, grimacing. “...well, I can’t make out much, but…”

“No exit,” Byleth finished for her. She responded with a grim nod. 

“Well,” Sylvain frowned, shoving his hands into his pockets, “shit.”

“‘Well shit’ indeed,” Byleth agreed. “We’ll have to look somewhere else for a way out. Seems like the TV there was one-way.”

Sylvain glanced at Ingrid, his expression difficult to read.. “What pulled you in here, by the way? Do you know?”

Ingrid looked down at her hand - presumably where she was grabbed - and shook her head. “I’ll be honest - I’m not sure. It felt like a human hand grabbing me by the wrist, but…”

An odd feeling crawled up Byleth’s back, and she looked around the cathedral with wide eyes. There were no signs of other people, but the fog was still just present enough to make her feel… unsure. Though she was aware it was likely all in her head, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was being watched by something just out of view.

Sylvain must have noticed her anxiety. “C’mon,” he said, snapping her out of her thoughts, “we should go look around.”

* * *

Outside of the cathedral was a long stretch of flat, featureless ground (presumably concrete by the texture, but Byleth wasn’t sure) framed in more of the same sickly, sallow fog. It seemed that Byleth had slightly better vision than the others in the fog, but even then it wasn’t by much. Still, that slight advantage put her in the lead, and she was at the front of the march deeper into the fog.

Still, Sylvain was the first one to notice a change in the environment. He stopped Byleth with a hand on her shoulder. “Wait,” he pointed in another direction, “what’s that?”

She followed his gesture to see the muted outline of a building in the distance. She squinted and took a few steps forward, trying to identify what it could be. It seemed blocky and industrial, with spires - likely factory smoke-stacks - striking upwards into the fogbound ‘sky’ above. 

“It’s our only lead,” Byleth concluded. “Let’s go take a look.”

Ingrid followed, but still wore an uneasy grimace on her face. “If this place is really connected with the deaths like we thought, we should really be careful…”

“Well,” Sylvain offered, “I’m guessing that poor Lysithea was alone when she got stuck in here. At least we’re traveling as a group. Makes us a little safer.”

“We also don’t know if she really died in here,” Byleth continued. “Hell, we don’t really know this place is involved at all, it’s just our best guess currently.”

Ingrid eased only slightly. “True… still, let’s be on our guard.”

Byleth nodded in agreement, before the three continued on in silence, slowly approaching the mysterious building. As they got closer, the smog parted little by little to reveal the structure in its entirety. They paused by what seemed to be the entrance, and Byleth craned her neck to look up at what stood before them.

The building was run-down and had the vibe of a factory abandoned to time. The walls were a decaying, grey brick, and the metal roof was rusted and sagging. Most striking, however, was the dark red that caked the gaps in the bricks, and pooled in splattered puddles leading into the entrance. The building was silent, but the ambience that radiated from it felt like the echo of long-silenced screaming. 

“...slaughterhouse,” Byleth spoke softly. “Like… something out of a horror movie.”

She could feel how tense Ingrid was as she stood beside her. “That odd program that Lysithea was on… it really had a similar vibe to this.”

“More than that,” Sylvain shook his head, “I swear, this is  _ definitely  _ the place that was in the background of that clip. Personally, I’ll take this as confirmation that the whole TV stuff  _ definitely  _ has to do with the murders. “

Byleth stepped towards the entrance. “Well, let’s go in, then--” She was cut off by a hand grabbing her wrist.

Ingrid’s eyes were pleading. “Byleth,  _ wait.  _ Sure, we don’t have all of the answers, but it’s obvious that this - this place had something to do with Lysithea’s  _ death.  _ We have no idea what’s in there, whether it’s dangerous or not, or…”

Byleth knew she had a point, but glanced back at the entrance anyways. “...alright. But if we can figure out a way to get in and out of here, we should come back. Maybe bring weapons or something, just in case…”

“Weapons? Well, I guess that’d make sense.” Sylvain rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “First step is actually getting out of here, though--”

He was cut off by a sudden sound. It came from somewhere behind them, further back into the fog and away from the slaughterhouse. It was like the sound of a shoe scraping against concrete, like someone coming to a sudden stop. Byleth’s gaze was immediately pulled towards the source of the sound, and a chill crawled through her when she recognized the shape of a person.

“Hey!” Sylvain called out, taking a step towards the shape. “Who the hell are you?”

Slowly, the figure took steps towards the group, the wreathing fog making its entire presence even more ominous and unsettling. Despite Sylvain being the one that called out to it, the figure seemed to be approaching Byleth specifically, as if it had some kind of keen interest in her in particular.

Before she could process what was going on, she realized she was face-to-face with a mirror image of herself. No, it was more like a mirror in some kind of funhouse. The face was the exact same, but the hair and outfit was different. It seemed that the one key difference was that while Byleth herself was a woman, her mirror image seemed to be a man.

“...you’re not supposed to be here,” he spoke softly. “The shadows will hurt you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the person in the comments wondering who would take the 'shadow world guide' role since it couldnt be sothis - was this what you were expecting? :)


	5. the drums of the city rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO chapters to welcome this fic back from the grave. Aren't I such a kind and generous author?

“Do you not feel it too, Byleth?” Sothis leaned forward in her grand throne, hands folded on her lap. “A great power stirs within you. Your destiny lies within this mystery, I know it to be true.”

Byleth, however, felt far less confident. “Am I really the best person for this task?”

Sothis paused, before nodding her head. “I believe that you are, but even if you were not... you may be one of the only options we have.”

* * *

“...Byleth,” Sylvain’s voice snapped her out of her surprise. “You… don’t happen to have a brother, do you?”

The doppelganger tilted his head quizzically at that. “A ‘brother’? What’s that? I don’t have one of those.”

“I think he was asking her,” Ingrid muttered, “not you.”

“But my name is Byleth,” he replied, his expression reflecting mild surprise. “So I thought… you were talking to me.”

Byleth - the  _ real  _ Byleth - grimaced. “It’s also  _ my  _ name, and an uncommon one at that. Who are you? Why do you… look so much like me?”

Byleth - ugh, the  _ other  _ Byleth - looked around, and then down at himself. “Ah. Do I? I’ve never gotten a proper look at myself, so I…” He shook his head. “This world is a strange place, maybe we’re not asking the right questions.”

“Then… what  _ are  _ the right questions?” Ingrid crossed her arms. “You’re the one that simply approached us and insisted we don’t belong here.”

Not-Byleth flinched a little. “Ah, sorry, I… I live here, in this world. Though I don’t know much about it…” He looked down at his feet for a moment, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “But I know it’s… um… dangerous - for humans like you all. That building right there’s a dungeon, where there are a lot of shadows… the last person who went in there never came out, and since I don’t sense them anymore…”

Ingrid tensed. “Just as we thought - Lysithea did die here…”

“So, Byleth--” Sylvain began, but he cut himself off with a groan when both looked at him. “Okay, wait, pause. We need to figure this name thing out before it gets confusing.” He pointed at the other-Byleth. “Sorry, bud. She was here first, so she keeps the name. What should we call you?”

He blinked a little in surprise. “Oh, uh - that’s alright, but I’m not quite sure…”

“Bael,” Byleth decided. When the others gave her odd looks, she continued. “My name comes from a mythological demon - named Beleth. ‘Bael’ is another demon. It makes sense.”

“Huh.” Ingrid paused, before looking at Byleth with complete confusion. “Wait, your parents named you after a  _ demon? _ ”

“I’ve been told my dad was a bit goth when he was younger.” 

“Well, er, anyways,” Bael cut in, “that name works just fine. I don’t even remember how I got the name ‘Byleth’ anyhow - it’s just something I kind of knew without any explanation. Now…” He paused. “Who was that ‘Lysithea’ you mentioned? Did you all know the human that got trapped here?”

“Not personally, no…” Ingrid shook her head. “But she died in our world, under very mysterious causes. She must’ve died here, and her body ended up back in our world.”

Sylvain continued, agreeing with Ingrid. “Yeah, we also saw her on TV, and in the background there was this building - er, dungeon,” he gestured to it with a thumb. “Adding that onto what you said, we pretty much know for sure now that she got trapped here and got killed somehow.”

“You mentioned something about shadows?” Byleth questioned.

Bael nodded. “Shadows are… well, they can be a lot of things, but they’re mostly strange monsters. They usually leave normal people alone… but when the fog clears, they get very aggressive.”

“Strange, since Lysithea was found on a foggy day…” Ingrid paused. “Maybe the weather here is inverse of the weather in the real world?”

“That could work, after all, that fog seems to come out of nowhere.” Sylvain shrugged. 

Before the conversation could continue, a strange sound came from inside of the slaughterhouse behind them, causing the entire group to tense up. Only now did Byleth notice that there were shapes moving inside of the ominous, tall building.

“We’re far too close,” Bael spoke quickly. “Follow me, I know a safe place.”

* * *

Coincidentally, said ‘safe place’ happened to be the cathedral from earlier. Whatever had been inside of the ‘dungeon’ had decided not to pursue them as they fled, though the anxiety from the close encounter still lingered. 

“This place was a dungeon once, a long long time ago… I think.” Bael led them down the aisle, towards the statue. “But now, shadows leave it alone. I’m not really sure why, but it’s nice to have one place that’s quiet.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Even better, this statue can be used as an exit.”

That got Byleth’s attention, along with that of her companions. “You can help us leave?”

Bael nodded. “Very easily, at that… but, um…”

“Is something on your mind?” Ingrid asked.

“I really did try to save that human that got stuck here, but…” His expression washed with guilt. “But I just couldn’t do it. I’m not strong enough by myself. If someone else were to get stuck in here, I… I wouldn’t be able to do anything.” He gave Byleth a pleading look. “However you got here, please… come back, at some point. I don’t want any other humans to die here.”

Byleth didn’t know what to say. Despite sharing her face, Bael was far more earnest with his emotions than she was, and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Feeling quite stuck, she instead simply nodded. “I’ll come back.”

“Really?” Sylvain asked. “Well, shit… I guess I’d look like an ass if I didn’t say so too, huh? I’ll be back.”

Ingrid nodded, her expression steely. “I’ll come back as well. I suspect foul play, personally, and I refuse to stand by and let others get hurt because of negligence.” Her certainty wavered, however. “...but I’ll admit, I’m worried about those ‘shadows’. I’ve trained in some self defense, but monsters are quite above my pay grade. How do we even combat them?”

“Ah, it’s actually very simple!” Bael lit up, clearly honored that the three of them had agreed to help. “You see, I believe this world has some kind of connection to human minds. That means…” From his belt, he produced a polished sword, reflecting light from the blade. Byleth winced at the sudden weapon, before realizing…

“Is that a toy sword?” She squinted at it, noticing plastic seams along the handle.

He nodded. “I may not know much about the human world, but I believe so. However, it looks real unless you really squint, right? And so it functions like a real sword… and cuts just as sharp.” He put the weapon back into his belt. “The more realistic the better, I think.”

Ingrid allowed herself to chuckle a little, gently nudging Sylvain. “Do you still have all those toy weapons we played with as kids? Or did Felix take all of them?”

Sylvain snorted. “Nah, but I guess our finely-honed skills from playing pretend knights will finally come in handy.”

“Uh…” Bael’s tone dropped into one of concern. “I’m really glad you’re all agreeing to help, but this isn’t a game. Shadows are very dangerous. Even with the weapons, there’s a lot of danger…” He sighed. “So, um… don’t be afraid to back out, okay?”

His words severely dampened the mood. Still, Byleth nodded. “We’ll do our best to help, however we can.”

Bael’s grateful smile was soft and genuine. “Thank you.”

* * *

It turns out that the odd crystal in the statue itself, when activated, had cast a portal down onto the ground that one just had to hop into. Then, they were once again treated to the awful, spinning feeling of being sucked back through the TV. After agreeing to meet back up again on their next free day, Sylvain and Ingrid retired back to their dorms for the evening.

Byleth said she was going to do the same, sharing in Sylvain and Ingrid’s discomfort and unease after having spent time in the other world, but in truth she felt just fine. Despite no one assigning her such a role, she felt as though it was her responsibility to lead the group and keep them all alive. She figured neither of the others had a little ghostly girl in their brain giving them advice, either.

And so, she started work on preparing their next trip. There were still a few days, but it couldn’t hurt to stay ahead of things, right?

First, she wanted to make sure they had a way to heal their wounds. She wondered idly as she picked out bandages and disinfectant spray whether the same psychological rules applied to all items, not just weapons. With that in mind, she bought a few granola bars that made some ridiculous claims about ‘revitalizing the soul’ on their labels. These things were loads of crap in the real world, but just maybe they’d work in the TV world.

The cashier gave her an odd look as she checked out, which prompted Byleth to respond, in her usual monotone voice; “I coach little league baseball”. It was a stupid lie, but Byleth had the gift of having such a dry delivery on everything she said that it left very little room to argue against her. 

Next were some clothes. Byleth didn’t know Ingrid or Sylvain’s sizes (nor did she really have the money to buy clothes for them, since she was saving for something else) so she figured she would pick something out and simply text them to do the same later. She decided on a thick windbreaker raincoat, figuring that the claws or fangs of whatever monsters lived beyond the TV would have a hard time breaking through the fabric. It was hardly proper armor, but it was accessible, as well as light and comfortable enough to move in. 

Lastly, she needed to worry about weapons. There was a party store not a far drive away which would surely have toy weapons for halloween costumes, but Byleth wasn’t so sure about those. After all, Bael had mentioned that more realistic weapons would be more effective, and those were often bulky and cartoonish. She checked online for prop weapons used by LARPers or those who regular renaissance fairs, but they were all absolutely outside of her budget.

With a sigh, Byleth pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, settling on a number she’d been meaning to call for awhile and pressing on it.

The dial tone rumbled in her ear for a few seconds, before the person on the other end finally picked up. Byleth sighed, pushing quickly past the hellos to get to the point.

“Claude, where do I find swords?”

* * *

Claude von Reigan was possibly the only person in Fodlan that Byleth actually knew before moving there. He was an avid world traveler from a young age, and the two had met several times in their teen years in Ylisse. She’d been meaning to give him a call ever since she arrived in Fodlan, but naturally, certain things got in her way. 

He didn’t live far from Garreg Mach, and the two made plans to meet up that weekend - the day before they were set to return to the TV world. Claude, bless him, didn’t ask a single question. When asked where she could find swords, he gave her a simple, straightforward answer:  _ weird old guys at flea markets. _ That was the best part about Claude; he knew seemingly everything, and never asked any questions about why you wanted to know too.

(He of course asked questions about everything else, but still, nobody’s perfect.)

She waited in the parking lot of the flea market, entertaining herself by idly scrolling through her phone, before a familiar voice finally approached.

“And there she is,” Claude said with a smirk, “little Miss Demoness, in the flesh. You were breaking my little heart, y’know, I thought you’d never call me…”

She rolled her eyes, pocketing her phone. Claude was one of the few people that actually knew the origin of her name before she told them, and ever since then he’d always called her some variation of a demon-themed nickname. “Sorry,” she said flatly, “I’ve just been busy.”

“Aren’t you always?” He grinned, before pocketing his hands in his coat. “Now then, one thing I’ve learned about these things is that there’s  _ always  _ an old guy selling model weapons. They’re pretty much real, too - not sharpened all the way, but made out of actual metal and stuff.”

“Do you know where they usually set up shop?” Byleth asked, approaching the entrance to the flea market lot. 

“Nope, and it’s almost always a completely different guy every time, which just makes it even more weird, huh?” He strolled alongside her. “This means that you’ve got no choice but to catch up with me while we try to find today’s sword guy. I’ve trapped you in conversation, my friend, and there’s no getting out of it~!”

“What a nightmare,” Byleth replied dully. 

As they walked through the stalls, glancing over tables filled with old furniture and odd collectibles, Claude kept up the conversation whether Byleth liked it or not. He was, unfortunately, very good at keeping people talking. At least with his friends it was harmless, but she could only imagine what he could squeeze out of someone he wasn’t so fond of.

(Claude was a good guy, really. It was just that he very blatantly had the potential to take over the world.)

“So, picked out a major yet? Last I checked you’d been hopping around a little.” Claude idly inspected a gaudy sculpture of a dragon before moving on.

Byleth glanced at him. “English. I’m planning to stick with this one.”

“Oh yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s your plan with that?”

“I figured there were a couple of things I could do,” she replied. “Could go into journalism, finally be an unbiased source.”

“Oooh, good idea. Then again, the political debates you and I used to have were pretty fiery...”

“Or,” she continued, “maybe go into publishing. I’ve heard the industry is cutthroat, and I figured they’d probably have a use for someone like me.”

“Ah yes, because you’re ice cold, an unfeeling statue. Fledgling authors would come up to you, begging for mercy,” Claude gestured dramatically as he spoke, “but you would strike them down with the wrath of an angry god! Their manuscripts would burn, their dreams would--”

Byleth elbowed him, cutting him off. “ _ Because _ I’m level-headed and not afraid to give criticism. Sometimes I wonder if you actually think I’m a demon.”

“Well, I have my suspicions, but…” He chuckled and raised his hands innocently as Byleth shot him a glare. “Kidding, kidding! C’mon, you know me.”

“I do, unfortunately.” Despite her blunt words, Claude knew that she was joking around as well. That was part of why they were friends - he understood her deadpan way of speaking while many others saw it as dismissive or insulting.

Before long, they finally found a table that sold nothing but highly realistic models of weapons. The only thing Claude was wrong about was the fact that the man working the table was around their age, not old. Still, he was a stern-looking man with a face that seemed always hardened into a glare - as well as a few scars decorating his dark skin.

Of course, because Claude knows everyone, he knew this man too. “Dedue!” He greeted cheerily. “Didn’t expect to run into you here. What’s the occasion, old pal?”

With the expression this ‘Dedue’ seems to always be wearing, Byleth wondered if he was about to punch Claude in the face. However, he looked to be completely calm, and somewhat eased up when Claude approached. 

“Claude,” he greeted with a dip of his head. “Good to see you.” Much like Byleth herself, he spoke in flat tones and brief words. Maybe it was just that Claude was good at getting along with people like that.

“So what brings you to  _ arms dealing, _ huh?” Claude’s voice was teasing. “I never thought you’d sink into a life of crime. What would poor little Dima think?”

Dedue sighed. “I am helping a family friend. He somehow ended up with an entire crate of these weapons from a wholesaler, and did not know what to do with them.” He glanced at Byleth. “And this is…?”

Claude threw an arm around Byleth’s shoulders. “This is my dear old friend Byleth, seeker of  _ fine blades. _ ” He looked at her with a grin, then back at Dedue. “And this is my dear old friend Dedue, the man of few words but many odd jobs.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I simply like to be productive.” Deciding to let Claude have his jokes, Dedue turned his attention to Byleth. “You’re looking for model weapons?”

“I am,” she replied simply. When the silence lingered, she made up an explanation. “It’s for cosplay.”

Neither Dedue nor Claude were buying it, but neither decided to voice their doubts. Instead, Dedue simply nodded. “Fair enough. Since they were purchased wholesale, they are quite affordable for their quality. The metal is not sturdy enough to take many hits, but it will look and feel real.”

That was all Byleth needed to hear. “The looks are all that matters,” she replied, before scanning her eyes over the table. She had asked Sylvain and Ingrid if they had any preferences. Sylvain said he had something of his own he planned to use, but Ingrid had said she liked the idea of something longer, so she could keep a distance between herself and any shadows. 

A basic shortsword caught Byleth’s eye. It was longer than a dagger, but still lightweight enough that she could wield it comfortably in one hand or both. She had really no formal training in how to use a sword, and so finding something easy to wield would be important. 

For Ingrid, the largest item on display was a shining spear -  _ naginata,  _ Dedue had corrected - that was also surprisingly lightweight. Dedue demonstrated for her how you could twist the shaft and it could collapse into a much shorter form, making it easy to transport and carry. Byleth had planned to store their weapons in the TV world (getting caught with a sword on campus wasn’t  _ ideal _ ) but it would be good to be discreet while trying to get the weapons into the TV in the first place. 

To her surprise, Claude covered the cost of both weapons. She protested against him, but he pretended not to hear and handed a wad of money over to Dedue. 

On the way out of the flea market, Claude gave her a knowing smile and said, “I’ve just got a hunch that what you’re up to is a little more important than just a  _ ‘cosplay’.” _

The group had agreed to keep people who were not directly involved in the investigation out of it, but Byleth wondered if that’d even be possible with a friend like Claude.

* * *

Later that day, over a dinner of instant food, Byleth asked her father if she had a brother.

Jeralt looked at her for a few moments as if she’d grown a second and third head all within moments. “Uh, no. Me and Sitri only had you. Why?”

“I met a clone of myself in an alternate universe,” she replied with a completely monotone voice. 

Jeralt laughed a little. “You have the most bizarre sense of humor, kid.”

Byleth smiled faintly, playing along with his disbelief. “I must partially get it from you.”  _ ‘Well, at least no one can tell me I didn’t try to tell him the truth’. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the whole scene with the flea market is based on a true story. One of my favorite memories with my grandpa was going to the flea market for him to find swords. I actually managed to find two, which are prized possessions of mine :3c

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments and let me know what your thoughts are! I live for comments, and I'll try to reply to as many as possible.
> 
> If you'd like to say hi, I can be found on twitter @Grimalkind :D


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